On Thin Ice
by Adelione
Summary: "The flames will extinguish and the ice will melt, it's only a matter of which expires first." She was taught to live as a man and a husband. Her gender was a secret kept under a pillow, but when two rulers unfolded that secret, her role was shifted into something she was not prepared for — a woman and a wife. [HIATUS]
1. Quagmire

**** (c) to orignal owners for cover picture.**

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 **A/N: Hello! Sorry for the long wait and... This is REWRITTEN and a restart.**

 **To old readers (people who've read previously uploaded chapters): I am so sorry for rewriting this whole thing, I know it sounds like a terrible idea as I've made 14 chapters already, but please, lend me another chance to make the story better. In case you are wondering why I'm apologizing, I've not only corrected some errors but changed the plot too. At least half of it or more, some may still remain the same, can't tell though so it would be a surprise to both old and new readers.**

 **Special apologies and thanks to my dearest readers: Huggles, GuestOrion, and Cefaye who stuck with the story longer than most. To grimxichixshiroxmomoxorixx, lizyeh2000, and Vanilla-x-Ice who personally messaged me for this update, thank you so much as well!**

 **Also, if I plan to rewrite the plot again, just slap me, doesn't matter who, just slap me.**

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 **Chapter** **I**

 **[** _Quagmire_ **]**

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Human emotions can't be calculated.

Somewhere, someone told her that.

From that moment, she believed, even blunted to feel little by that philosophy. There was no need to poke a thing filled with indefinites and ambiguity, it couldn't be measured in numerals, couldn't be simplified in equations, and most of all, it was as unpredictable as a coin flip. Perhaps, if eyes could peek into a person's inner world, it would have been simpler. Everything was much clear in the stories as it were all laid out in ink, _in detail._

And with that, she flipped another page of her book and rubbed her chin with a thumb like a fascinated old man.

Akira was just a girl who didn't lift a noise – fairly modest but brutally precise. She was blessed with height and delicate beauty of a _boy_. The almighty being who exacted that must had his eyes closed, or he may just had a satirical humor when he came up with a face for her. No glimpse on her had been without wonders.

Her days were barely discernible from each other, differing only with what story she read and the weather outside. Most books she'd bury her nose into were histories, novels, and essay pieces. It mattered not if what she read wouldn't interest a soul, she'd skim through it all at the end of the day. She loved to cure her curiosities about the odds and ends around her. Without stepping out of her home, she thought she would understand the world through a piece of paper.

Learning was her adventure.

She turned to the last page. The wind gently blew inside the room and the busy fusses outside grew, portraying an everyday scene.

But...

That everyday scene came to an end.

Her father made a rare visit, delivering words with diminished warmth because he didn't like it himself. Time froze to a halt as her lips pursed into a firm line.

And now her quiet face began to crumble, the book in her hands was long forgotten on the ground as her eyes reflected an astonished shine then a miserable one. Pain in her chest was unique, fresh even, it was much different from a bloody wound.

Confusion and fright sat together with the ache, and though they were her feelings, she barely understood them. _How did it turn out like this? Why does it hurt this much?_

"What...? Can't someone else do it?"

"No. _I_ have to leave the country, and put you under the care of the palace. I cannot keep you here anymore, you'd be safer there," Hatori the father said, maintaining his voice straight.

It was the last thing to be said to her and daring to touch her disturbed form was a distant wish. As though the slightest contact would shatter her into pieces, but then she vacated her spot on the floor. He stared down at his daughter, with staked hopes that she wasn't frightened too much.

His mouth barely remained even, trembling slightly. _You are still unfit on your own_ , thought Hatori, thankfully, not out loud.

Yet she readied herself, presenting her spine straight, at least, her mind was set that she was.

Leaving his daughter in the palace was no different from entrusting her into a den of vicious lions. His emperor friend had a change of prospects, his ears and tongue now belonged to his pretty new wife.

But no _crow_ would peck her there.

Akira nodded her head dutifully to him. "I understand." _I don't want you to leave me._

"Turn around," he told her with a difficult smile to behold, "Let me braid your hair."

She did as told silently then she questioned, "When will you return?"

The father entwined his fingers on dark hair, manipulating the locks until it was transformed into a secured braid hanging freely on Akira's back. He took a pause since the answer was quite far from him. "… I don't know." Those brief words made her face him almost too quickly and he continued, both hands falling on her shoulders, "Remember... You are a _boy_. Wear your colors and _no_ _one_ would presume to hurt you. People will talk behind your back, let them. Do not forget."

"I won't." Akira's hands gripped the sides of her black pants, her father always saw to it that she was clad in dull colors, from hat to shoes, all.

"Good. Everything's all right..."

She didn't nod to that transparent lie. She had been too smart for her own good and yet he embraced her, long arms caging her securely into him. The heartbeat against her chest was faster and stronger than hers, giving warmth that was no more than a brief touch of comfort to unseen wounds. And it were like knives when he began to draw away.

Akira stared forward, chin raised.

"It's not," she said with ice crawling into her voice.

Hatori's shoulders refused to drop, her few words was an echo. However, circumstances were hopeless between him and his daughter. He was to leave the country sooner than predicted.

He _flinched_.

There was a cry from afar, but he didn't turn to it.

Instead, he shushed his daughter and covered her ears with his cold palms. Her eyes widened by a tiny fraction but she didn't question, her thoughts were on the future of having to spend her days without her father. There was no telling on when they'd see each other again and she had no proper mother to guide her in his absence.

Through the window, a harrowing scenery had just came about. Peasants dispersed all over the street.

Men, the _crows_ , who wore the same colors as Akira chased the unarmed, taking as many lives as their blades could acquire.

The coming of the wind was sharp and blustering in aimless ways this time, and the once busy fusses demeaned into gurgling screams.


	2. The Boy with Red Mane

**** (c) to orignal owners for cover picture.**

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 **Main Author's Note is in the 1st chapter. Please read it and the rewritten chapter itself first if you haven't. :)**

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 **Chapter II**

 **[** _The Boy with Red Mane_ **]**

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Everything in the Palace was crimson and adorned with golden fineries. Large foundations of columns stood like giants on the sides of the throne hall, carrying the ceilings that were of red and gold, with sorts of symmetrical patterns carved on it, and the walls that met its vast height stretched onward as far as the eyes could see. _Grandiose_ was not an exaggeration in describing the enormous residence of the royal family.

The emperor, simpering amply, was seated at the center of the high scaffolding. His princesses were crimson and elegantly poised in a perfect line from eldest to youngest on his left, and the same order were for the princes lined on his right, but the warm affair was a prince short. The eldest was missing from the lineup.

No one questioned his absence, however.

Akira stared forward with her lips firmly shut into a slight frown, her brows were low and her hands clasped behind her. The eccentric spectacles twinkling like stars around her wasn't that admirable with her weary mood. No child would want to be left at such an unknown place. _Elsewhere would be delightful._

Many burning stares were set on her, quietly judging and watching her like a rare animal.

In her dark clothing and expression, she was ash in scorching flames.

Koutoku slowly rose, heavy-browed, tall, broad-shouldered and as handsome as sunstone. His back had agonized from hours of being seated. "Come forward already!" he chuckled, loud enough to shatter the silence in his home.

And the father and daughter did as commanded without word.

The emperor welcomed his friend and former adviser to both him and his brother with a strong smack on the back, earning an awkward shriek from the especially taller man, and he laughed once more.

Akira straightened and prostrated herself, though apathetically, her manners were well enough to impress the most important man of the country. The emperor regarded her presence in the room. _He has the right manners, at least._

Koutoku's scrutiny quickly returned to Hatori, he made a jest at the man's gauntness that was refined by the years with books instead of swords, "I swear there is more meat in my chicken than in you! Did the wind take you here by accident?"

The royal children of the room did not laugh, let alone giggle, and just remained as solemn and pristine statues while the two shared a chaste embrace. Being the youth they were, they had the itch in their feet to disperse away and finally tend to their hobbies, studies, _or_ duties, if so lucky their existence weren't much overlooked. Not all of them enjoyed being caged in one space after all.

As luck would have it, the emperor had the sliver of lenience in him. With the lift of his finger, his children were defrocked from having to witness a tedious meeting between men. Their presence were just inclined for the formality of a greeting, and to present the princesses, in the event that Hatori would have a favorite for his Akira. He gave away his daughters as though they were mere gold tokens, something his valued friend could not stomach as a father.

Hatori did the same to his daughter. "I will speak to you later," he told her and she nodded rightly, following the leave of a snobbish princess who left last among her siblings.

"Talk. You did not come here only to do as I command," Koutoku said indignantly, he didn't like loitering silence from someone often verbal.

With his pride in flames, Hatori gave voice to his grief. His head was low, almost bowing, "I fear for my d– son's safety, he is not safe in Rakushou anymore. Half of the clan accuses me for breeding disgrace such as myself."

Koutoku had a high brow for the stutter, but he made no comment on it.

He hid his hands behind him before speaking, chin held high and eyes down on Hatori, "They will _not_ touch him, I swear to that. So long as he becomes fit to counsel my eldest son in the future of his reign."

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"Do not follow me, _crow_ ," the princess snapped, rouge red eyes welled with both fear and disgust as though Akira was a disease she did not want to catch. She was as regal as a jewel encrusted pendant while Akira was as plain as a pikestaff, in terms of attire. _Lions must not associate with crows_ , thought the girl.

"My sincerest apologies, princess. But I was not," Akira's denial was small and effortless, and was unheard as the princess turned away immediately with a scornful frown, the tail of her fiery robes spun along with her, storming off to the fragrant garden of roses. She was gravely _mistaken_ , Akira only wanted to exit the throne room and stay by the doors in wait.

Regardless, Akira politely lowered her head until the princess disappeared through the topiaries.

The hostility was to be expected as she was a _crow_ , by blood and by name. She belonged to a warrior house that was feared for both strength and cruelty. The crown favored them as cornerstone to build Kou's military prowess. So long as they brought death to enemies, their reputation and lack of formal training went unnoticed. Just a brood of savages yielding brute power.

Members of this formidable house lurked about the streets and castles of higher houses – like a hired mercenary – the feathers protruded on their cloaks were as black as the image they carved in people's mind when they roamed the nights. They were difficult to forget once seen.

Their blades were also sharp, but their wits were not. And that had been a cold wall that disconnected Hatori, the first man who strayed from the proverbial path of barbarity and used his intellect for his ambitions for the country. He imparted wisdom to Kou emperors and soon he extended his knowledge to his daughter and groomed her to be like him.

Yet, he relied on crow colors to provide her a shade of protection.

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She began to sway from side-to-side, her eyes threatened to shut by themselves without her awareness. There was no telling on how long she stood outside of the closed doors.

" _You_ ," a condescending voice disturbed her ears and hazy focus. To the sound, she slowly turned her head to it.

Kouen stood, the _first_ imperial prince – the _young lion_. He was a taller and a much older boy possessing striking red hair and eyes. His chest dropped and rose rapidly, and his breath was drawn in huge puffs from his throat. Sweat moistened his elegant traditional clothing, causing his figure to be embraced by the fabric. He had lost track of time while he trained, and possibly, had gotten a bit too carried away with his activities.

He held his chin high, truculently, as he bound her with his gaze. Swiftly, he aimed the tip of his sword at Akira.

Her eyes rested themselves on him, observing fine details of his, not budging an inch from the blade about to kiss her nose. In her mind, a thought floated on how he was like an enigmatic character that leaped out of a fairytale.

"Yes, Akira is my name. Might I asked who you are?" carefully asked Akira with a furled brow.

It was customary to bounce introductions properly, but Kouen withheld his name from her. An amused smirk curled on the side of his mouth. She was lacking fright, or possibly, lacking reaction at his presence. Other people did not interest her and other people feared him. Yet she posed finely. _His eyes are rotten_ , he thought. She neither had similarities with her unrefined relatives and her kindly father.

"You will know once you clash blades –"

"He's Prince Kouen!" came another voice, below this time. Both stared down at the smiling Chise, a blond boy much shorter and younger than them, his skin was beige from years of early training in combat and his clothes were just as drenched in sweat as Kouen. He was a hardworking lovechild from a smaller but respected house, a lordling.

Kouen face-palmed and sighed with irk. Chise had ruined the puzzled mystery for the incurious child in black, her eyelids had gotten low, almost bored.

However, _manners_.

She bowed, quickly, and presented respect for the prince. But before she could speak comely greetings, she was told to raise her head.

"Cease the formalities," he said without jest, his smirk plummeting from his lips. "You are the son of my father's closest friend. It is only fitting that we share the same friendship."

Yet there was barely any change on Akira's expression, the notion was vague and unattractive. Was he suggesting or commanding? His tone was bleak, much like his stare, dry and steel sharp, most men would certainly cower to their knees if they were to see. And Kouen was not even angry.

"Are you certain of that?" her voice was cool and flat.

The prince furrowed his forehead, his hardened expression betrayed nothing. How could anyone dare ask him that? The words from his mouth were law, never dawdling.

He scoffed, "I wouldn't mention it if I wasn't." _Is he actually slow?_

She nodded good-naturedly and he kept his sword sheathed.

"Oh, I'm Chise. Nice to meet you," introduced the young lordling with a smile that never left his face, he held out his hand for her to shake. His aura was the opposite of what Kouen emitted. Soothing and sweet somehow.

She bent down to study Chise as if he was a small specimen. Why was he smiling at a stranger such as herself? He was _definitely_ new, she thought as the boy went red all the way to his ears. She had been looming over him and he shrunk.

"Chise?" she inquired with an arched brow. The name suited him, _anyone_ would agree. "Little Star?" The hand in front of her fell sadly when she provided distance between them.

"Y-Yes... I may be a little one but I'll shine the brightest!" the shorter boy said proudly with a friendly smile, eyes sparkling innocently. No one knew what shining the brightest mean, it was almost silly to say, but as expected of Chise — he had no bad bone in him.

"Come with us," demanded Kouen, already walking north and Chise quickly arrived to his side, as if he belonged there.

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The two boys lead the way into the heart of the sleeping forest as she quietly remained behind them. The tips of tall grass leaves slightly tickled her feet and the winds blew gently against their skins. The boys talked an in depth discussion about their techniques in swordplay, much like experts.

She should be happy that the prince considered making acquaintance with her, furthering it with an invitation to somewhere. But she wasn't. Perhaps he was ordered to? Their fathers were known friends, it was indeed likely for them to pass on such friendship, by heart or not.

Silence then lingered as they roamed to the darker parts of the forest. The trees were taller, stretching high above them as it served as a dense canopy of shade, denying sunlight.

They went pass the woodcutters and their earful of whisperings. One of the children was not like the other, a savage among them, the men had said with fear for the boys' safety. For the prince _especially_. _"Ain't the prince with a crow? I reckon encounterin' one. Nearbout shat meself then with the knife on me neck!"_

The boys didn't need their woes, however.

Then Kouen suddenly halted when they arrived at a place where pines and timbers didn't cluster together, supporting a grassy expanse and a loitering solitude. This had been his private training grounds, only a few knew and had stepped foot on it.

An owl hooted somewhere, the cold breeze whistled gently and the fallen leaves rustled.

"You will spar with us from now on and see how far your skills should be," Kouen unsheathed his sword expertly, he handled himself with a demeanor of a seasoned swordsman. Despite his ripe age, he severed a falling leaf in two, as easy as breathing.

Chise wouldn't let himself left out, he waltzed with his twin blades as though it were parts of his arms. Each strike he made against the wind was flawless. _If only_ the little lordling was not gullible of all things unrelated to swordplay.

To the ordinary eye, having to witness them perform would be an astonishing sight but Akira begged to differ. It was tiresome just by watching them and she declined almost instantly, she did not promise any sparring sessions with them, "It requires legwork," she had said. She had other assets, like her _flawless_ grammar and syntax, her intellect, basically. Swordplay would never be one of them. And asking her to hold a weapon would be no different from asking a blind person to appreciate a painting.

"So does walking," Kouen quipped, his expression was calloused and his voice was conflagrant, deepened.

 _Interesting bastard. But I must not forget what father wills me to – become friends with him and benefit on his said intellect. He must learn the basics, at least. Or he'd just be a corpse who couldn't defend himself and the country,_ he thought to himself.

"Yes, but not as much," said Akira, her tone was thin but subtly opposing and her stature remained primly straight.

Chise swallowed, quickly stepping in between them, though his presence was barely noticed at first due to his, or more precisely, _their_ towering height.

Akira was a cold storm and Kouen was a volcano, _both_ were wicked as a combination.

"C-Come! Let's pee together!" The jittered boy grabbed Akira's wrist and dragged her away, to extinguish the dangerous spark between her and Kouen.

The prince's patience was a thread, thin and prone to snapping.

"I don't feel like going and why must I go with you?" Akira asked the lordling as she was tucked behind a pine with him.

"Y-You shouldn't try to enrage En," Chise started as a pair of astute eyes were above him.

"Then he should not have ceased formalities if he prefers a softer language."

"It's not that he prefers that, he's still a prince and he rarely reaches out to others. You could get punished if someone else hears that!" he exclaimed worriedly, "Promise me you'll be nicer." Chise raised his pinky finger.

"I'll keep the consequences in mind, but why do I need to promise with you?" he said nothing and only smiled, waiting for her to accept the promise, and she gave up. Her finger twisted around his smaller one.

"It's settle then!" his smile grew wider, "Still, it's amazing that you're brave around him, usually people get scared of him."

"And why are you not?"

Chise stared down at his feet, as though his answers loitered there. "He looked pretty lonely when he trained alone so I asked to spar with him and he said yes…" he ended with a thin mutter.

Kouen was constantly surrounded by smiles to please his good side. Respect out of fear was merely superficial and stupid that he preferred to be alone. But then Chise presented an honest smile, with his mind uncorrupted of dirty motives, only dreams and swordplay swam in his thoughts. So the prince didn't mind him beaming happily by his side. Only a few were allowed to step in his personal space.

"I see, and what explains you unfazed of me?"

"You talk like an old man and you have an aura of a proper lord, there's no way you'd be scary," he smiled.

Akira squinted at the shorter boy, his response had a mile difference from others. "Are you an angel or something?" To that, he grimaced and tripped on his words as he suggested to return to the prince. Kouen must not wait any longer.

Arriving to the prince's secluded den had been pointless because Akira refused a spar from them. Chise had to pester her of her recent promise with him when she further expressed her distaste of swordplay by claiming it was energy depriving and wouldn't feed her mind. Reading political essays or observing people's behavior grasped her more. She was as boring as her hobbies.

"No, no, no. Swordplay is amazing! You have to try!" Chise smiled with hopes that she would agree but it had been fruitless against her unchanging expression.

He instead proposed a contest, in defense for his passion. If she were to lose then must admit herself wrong. He pointed at the tallest tree far north – the goal – whoever arrived first to touch the trunk would be the victor.

At that, Kouen presented himself as her opponent. Not because he was faster, but because he wanted to lower that pretty head of hers to his liking.

"If I win?" Akira asked with a measured tone, perhaps it was a sliver of confidence.

"… We'll grant you one request," said Chise after a thought, his smile was almost carved on his face.

Kouen had cut in, letting his displeasure speak, "I'm not satisfied with _you_ just admitting wrong. If I win, you'll spar with us without question."

With a simple nod of her head, they had come to an agreement.

Akira and the prince readied themselves for a run, kneeling one of their knees and leaning forward on the ground, and their eyes locked on a tree. Then the signal resounded with a blast of a clap, "Go!"

Kouen was first to abandon his spot, quick like a lion pouncing on its prey. His footsteps were steady thumps on the grass, snapping a few twigs the soles of his feet met in his rush. Gusts of wind had advanced on him. Though he had been fast, his heartbeat was not, it fluttered calm and confident.

He barely consumed a minute as he was halfway towards the goal and Akira was…

She was _somewhere_ behind him. _Probably._

"Didn't think you'd get any slower," said the victor to the loser who arrived minutes later.

"Was… Was I mistaken for someone athletic?" Akira panted, falling on the grass with her dark clothes blackened more by sweat. "That's the most exercise I've gotten in my life…"

"Seriously?" On the contrary, the prince barely exerted a drop of sweat and was in disbelief. _How unfit is this guy?_

"En, you won!" Chise exclaimed, running towards them.

"I'm aware, clearly," Kouen stared down at Akira, dropping a reminder, "Be here _tomorrow_."

"It's not over," Akira said sternly, straightening herself properly after standing on her aching legs awkwardly. She took deeper breaths and finally spoke once again, "Now that I've let you contest on you own favored terms, there should be no problem on my turn." She added, "All or nothing."

It was no wonder that she had agreed so easily then; it had been a scheme, never confidence to cripple the prince's speed with hers _._ Kouen clenched and unclenched his balled fists, smirking his lips at Akira's blank gaze.

" _Fine_ ," the prince agreed.

"Chise must answer."

"Right! I'll do my best, En." Chise smiled at the prince, striking his chest with his fist with all confidence behind him.

"You should," Kouen had said with strength in his tone. Defeat was unacceptable.

Akira towered over the lordling and he shrunk once again as he nodded, his confidence was replaced by jitters that prickled his throat. She began after providing distance for him to breathe, "Answer this riddle," she said, "When night looms, they come out. But when day arises they are lost without being taken. What are they?"

"Uh…"

Silence.

 _Chise, you would be an utter idiot if you wouldn't be able to guess that._ Kouen thought.

"Should I repeat?" Chise nodded slowly and the riddle was echoed once more.

"Not a riddle…" the lordling held his head between his hands, his mind already at a loss. Then he turned to the prince for answers and he was only given a fiercely dark stare. Kouen had never glared at him since their first meeting, was he _that_ enraged? Perhaps he had been _too_ stupid? The riddle had been too easy. His eyes never left Chise while Akira counted the minutes spent.

Chise made a dozen of guesses and all of it were far from right, until the prince pointed at him when Akira briefly glimpsed at the depressing weather above. The air was chilled and the skies were dimmed and rumbling.

The answer shot the boy like a stray arrow to his muddled thoughts.

"Stars! It's stars, isn't it?!" the shorter boy blurted loud, enough to shock Akira's vulnerable ears.

Blinking twice and shaking her head, she let out a sigh, "Yes. The prince is fast with his hints, isn't he?"

"You did not forbid any form of support," Kouen stated smartly while Chise bounced in bliss of his little victory.

Akira nodded with half-lidded eyes, "It appears to be my loss, Prince Kouen. I shall see you both tomorrow."

"Kouen," he corrected. "I'll know where you are if you don't, keep those well in mind."

Without another word, they parted ways.

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"You were not present this morning."

Koutoku was rooted on his throne, alone with his firstborn son. He examined Kouen direly, awaiting for an acceptable reason for his absence.

The prince lowered his head then lifted his head to meet the emperor's stare, his tone was unbroken as he stood princely, "My apologies, lord father. I've had a prolonged sparring session with Chise."

"You're always with that boy quite recently."

"He is a young prodigy, I will learn a lot from him."

"So, what about the other boy?" Koutoku digressed, quickly choosing a subject that better interest him, "Akira, what is your opinion of him?"

"He is…" Kouen paused appropriately, frowning his lips, collecting the right words to describe Akira. "Not stupid."

"It appears you detest him," The emperor rested his chin on his knuckle, pleasantly occupied by his son's rare change of expression. _Most amusing,_ he thought. There was a huge difference in tenor when the prince mentioned Chise, he spoke rightly for the boy.

"He is uncooperative and sarcastic," said Kouen, not to be mistaken of him complaining.

Koutoku clenched his hands together, "Is that so? Much like his mother, she and I never particularly went along," despite what he had said, his eyes and tone strangely softened at the pronounced woman. "Shame the boy did not take after Hatori's docility as friend." He then stood, taking heavy steps towards his son whose focus was steady to every drop of his words. "Listen child – we _need_ the wise on our side, or they'd be difficult foes in the future. Even so, you must appear higher than they are or they'll strike you were you stand."

Kouen lifted a brow, he didn't hold the advice well to his own knowledge, "Your Majesty, what about the strong?"

The emperor gave his son a grim look. "The strong don't always prevail, it's the ones who outsmarts them – the ones who turn the tables."

And that was when the prince decided to measure his father's words with an experiment of his own.

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"This is your new room," Hatori declared as he and his daughter stood within the vastness of the room. "Out of two hundred rooms, this one has the best view of the pond," he added with a smile. He then turned his daughter to face the window.

There was a pond outside, its clear waters glistened and rippled as tears from the sky had fallen. Koi fishes would leap from the waters to flaunt its wonderful colors on rare occasions, he had mentioned to her along with other things she should be impressed about her new environment.

"The room is not pink," the daughter said. Her dead-fish eyes examined the room shortly. Her new bed had crimson curtains about its sides, which spilled to touch the floor but its size was redundant for her. There was a large wardrobe to its left and a desk, chair, and shelves of book to its right.

"You don't even like pink," her father pointed out. "Listen, now is not the time to be unreasonable. You must know that not everything I do is out of desire."

"Then why do it?"

"Because I must, Akira. Because I must."

"Because the emperor tells you to?"

"I'm his only friend and he seldomly asks for a favor, let alone trust someone with not the face of the empress," He didn't meet the girl's hostile gaze. She had plenty to say, words that matched ice. But was left unsaid. Akira disliked the idea of having the emperor as rival for her father's affections. It was an unspeakable competition.

"Would he like to include you in his concubine as well?"

Hatori knelt down and placed a finger on her lips, "Promise me there will be no more wisecracks from you. Please," he pleaded to her and she thawed, "Do not be impatient. I will be back soon after speaking with the Lady of Gou."

She shrugged her shoulders, "Promise. Will you be talking to the empress?"

"No, just a lady. Koutoku believes I'm capable of dealing with her infamous temper." He then stood with his eyes lowered to her, "I'm sorry I had to leave you. All I've done is affect you with my mistakes…"

Akira sighed and held her father's trembling hand, the warmth from her palm joined with his. "The picture you paint for me doesn't have to be perfect. I'll wait for your return."

Her father needn't to be perfect as she was not either as a daughter. He loved her and so did she. Akira had said that just so he would not carry worries in his travels, as she was left in a place brimmed with strangers.

Hatori finally smiled again and he squeezed her hand, the troubles somehow lifted off of him, "Thank you, Akira…" he embraced her tightly then properly faced her, informing her, "Oh, right… As far as I know, Prince Kouen only observed tournaments, but this year, he decided to enlist some names. Yours was included, he did the honor of securing you a post as an entrant. Along with another boy…" he paused for a thought, "Chise, I believe was his name."

Akira blinked twice.

" _What_?"

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 **Who actually tried to solve the riddle? Lol**

 **Some of you may notice a change in Akira's personality, from workaholic to lazy, yes? Yeah, she's that one person in class who wouldn't play pokemon go because walking comes with it**

 **Anyway, let me know your opinion on this rewritten version~**

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 **Thank you for reading~**


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